Busted Halo
June 24th, 2003
My Secret Plan for Father's Day

I don’t have high expectations for my Father’s Day celebration this year. Don’t get me wrong, we will undoubtedly celebrate. We will barbecue or break bread in some way. And hopefully, I’ll receive one or two hand-made cards (hopefully two, since I have two kids). Believe it or not, the reason I don’t have high expectations isn’t because our Mother’s Day celebration was such a disaster (though it was).
Happy %$#! Mother’s DayHere’s what happened, in a nutshell. This year, at least for one day, I really wanted the wife to feel the respect and love she deserved. But when I tried to enlist the help and participation of the two young people we live with, they…

June 24th, 2003
College Seniors Take a Spiritual Look at Graduation

Coming to the University of California at Santa Barbara was a very significant decision in my life. As I prepare to leave, I draw parallels between the new start that college brought me four years ago and the new start I will encounter as I graduate from UCSB in the coming month. Amongst all of the changes that I encounter and contrast one thing remains the same: God was, is, and will always be my companion.
Although this is true for all people, whether
we choose to see our relationship with God in this way or not, I feel it is especially significant to me because of the separations I have experienced from people who are close to me. When I was thirteen years old my mother, sister, and brother—the people who were most dear…

June 18th, 2003

My other name is Mr. Flag. It’s true?I’m a closet vexillologist . I study flags. I guess you’d say that qualifies me as a geek. Or maybe I’m just a pathological liar with a good flag collection.
Regardless, Independence Day is upon us, and with it my mailbox becomes stuffed with the questions people have about the U.S. Flag and its many uses. Following are some of the many that have graced my mailbox between June 14, Flag Day (one of the nation’s more obscure shopping holidays), and the big July birthday bash for the U.S. of A.
Q: Is it okay to fly the US flag upside down during hazing ceremonies at my dorm?
-Dominic Calamanci, Queens, NY
Mr. Flag: Unfortunately the flag can only be flown…

June 16th, 2003
As Seen from a Distance

Though Americans living abroad might technically be defined as expatriates (from the Latin “banished ones”), they generally tend to think of themselves more as roaming ambassadors of national pride.
Aasalaamu aleikum, pilgrim We normally head out with the cowboy mentality of heading off into the wild blue yonder with our brains and brawn, ready to conquer the wilderness. We arrive in our new surroundings excited to share with the locals the superiority of our culture, ready to demonstrate the genius of our ways, and expecting people to learn from us.
In short, we often arrive at our new destination ready to establish our own little piece of Americana, convinced that we will succeed just as readily…

June 15th, 2003
The Quieter National Pride of Canada Day

I’m relieved July 1 falls on a Tuesday this year, unattached to a weekend. It means, yay, that I won’t have to mark the Canada Day holiday by accompanying my husband on a three-night excursion to his parents’ lakeside “cabin.”
No toilet, no wayThere’s no way I’m up for lugging my two-year-old son and eight-months-pregnant belly off on a prolonged visit to a place with no running water or beds fit for sleeping. Yeah, the fresh air’s nice and the scenery is lovely, but right now I’m just too fat and uncomfortable to care. I’d be more gung-ho if there was an actual toilet.
My husband is among the many Canadians who love spending our country’s birthday…

June 12th, 2003
Does the Proverbial Tie Cut the Mustard?

When I talk to my father, the conversation usually sounds like this on my end: “Hi, Dad.”“Yes. Thank you.”“I know.”“Yes, the Bengals certainly do suck.”“No….Look, is Mom around?”

Division of laborMy mother is the emotional matrix of the family; all news, all announcements of parental displeasure, all verification of travel plans are transmitted through her. She keeps the checkbook, the phone list, the calendar. There is a type of cycle in progress here…my father goes to work, as his father did before him; only my father doesn’t beat me when he arrives home.
Since he’d had contact with no male role model, no loving structure…

June 9th, 2003
The World of Socially Responsible Investment

“More analysts are riding the bull,” read the headline in the Chicago Tribune recently.
Despite bad news from other sectors of the economy, the stock market seems to be on the rebound. With tech stocks including EBay, Yahoo, and Amazon hitting 52-week highs last month, the first evidence is in that the burst bubbles of the century’s turn might be behind us. The Down Jones Industrial Average, New York Stock Exchange, and even the wayward NASDAQ are all up for the year.
But before you bolster your mutual fund, or fork over more money for your 401(k), you might want to ask yourself, “What’s my money doing anyway?”
In the beginning…In the late 1960′s, a group of very creative…

June 1st, 2003
A Cardinal Complains, a Board Chair Resigns - What Does It All Mean?

JUNE 18, New York – This week the head of the U.S. Catholic Church’s National Review Board, former Oklahoma Governor Frank Keating, resigned suddenly from his post. The National Review Board is charged with monitoring the Church’s reforms in the wake of the clergy sex abuse scandal.
Governor vs. cardinal
The drama that led to this conclusion occurred in full public view last week. Though pretty complicated (even to church insiders), it seems to have unfolded pretty much like this:

In May, Cardinal Roger Mahony of Los Angeles had led the California bishops in resolving not to fill out a research survey on clergy sexual abuse, alarmed by the specter of lawsuits and media leaks.
In a June 12 L.A.

June 1st, 2003
A Little Bible Study Didn't Hurt

For years I’ve recited the same prayer, every morning as I drive to work and every evening before I go to bed: Lord, help me feel your presence and be nicer to people. But my morning prayer is usually interrupted by some nimrod doing 80 in the slow lane who has just cut me off. And more often than not, my evening prayer is preempted by pondering that age-old question: what will I have for breakfast, a smoothie or soy latte?
But hey, God knows what’s in my heart. It’s not like I’m asking to win the lottery or anything (although if you’re listening, Big Fella, that would be nice too). So surely He’d be willing to grant a prayer so selfless.
He hasn’t. And every time I’ve cursed…

May 28th, 2003
Wisdom Culled from a Family Brunch

—there are so many of them in the world…everyone has one.
I guess I first realized that while attending a college run by the Marianist religious order . They like to help everyone realize that we all have our own story. So I started wondering about my story and where it will end. After all, I only know it up to chapter 26, and how many total chapters there will be I have no idea.
The great gatheringI just finished attending “the Easter brunch,” an
annual gathering of relatives from my father’s side of the family
. My trip home was a whirlwind tour—”Joe a palooza” as I described it to my sister.
I have eight siblings and more cousins than I can count. We are a crazy, huge family.…

May 19th, 2003
A Word on Spectacle and Substance

When famed home run hitter Sammy Sosa got caught with a corked bat, it set off a flurry of accusations and controversy over dishonesty in major league baseball. Slammin’ Sammy (who finished his seven-game suspension last week) has always been known as one of baseball’s flashier players, but that was one time he probably wishes he could’ve sidestepped the spotlight.
But Sosa’s error raises a question that transcends the ballfield.
As a society, it’s as if we’ve become entranced by a spinning disco ball, which glitters and turns but never actually makes us feel like dancing.
The long ball…
Today it seems, if it’s not a home run, it’s just not quite exciting enough.

May 19th, 2003
You Are God's Co-Pilot

If you imagine God as a parent, what kind of parent do you imagine? You imagine your parent.
My God may be distant and uninvolved, always on business trips and only looking my way when I am in deep…trouble. Or my God may be sitting by my bedside at night, holding me and showing me how to slow down my breathing, so I can get over my cough. My God may be angry, always waiting for me to “blow it,” or my God may be understanding, and forgive me when I just don’t get it right.
Most of us, if we think about it carefully, have understood God in terms of our parents. This Mother’s Day might be a good time to think about what kind of God it is we want to transmit to our children. We are (no doubt about it) their first…

May 14th, 2003
Leaving, Learning, Coming Back for More

I know that my mother suffered terribly from postpartum depression after giving birth to my brother Franz and me, yet she and my father weren’t finished. One day, Franz and I were being good and looking incredibly adorable, and it coerced my parents into having Jimmy.
‘You’re adorable’ momentsRight now, I’m on a silent retreat and honestly, I’m exhausted from the experience of living in a community.
However, I’m also having one of those “you’re adorable” moments. We yell at each other, we lean on each other, we’re sick, we’re up, we hate work, we’re down, our family situations aren’t what we want them to be, we’re…

May 13th, 2003

After a refreshing vacation, getting back into the swing of things that first Monday was jarring. Sluggish from a marathon of daytime TV, too much eating, and not enough exercise made the return to real life all the more difficult.
And then.
Thorn and drillI awoke to hear my dog, Elvis, whimpering in pain and licking his back paw. Attempts to check his paw were fruitless. He would bolt in pain, crying as if he’d been physically struck.
That morning I had a dentist appointment to replace two fillings. Nothing like the whir of a dentist’s drill to start the day right. After the appointment I could rush back home, pick up Elvis and take him to the vet. When I called work to leave a voicemail that I’d be late,…

May 12th, 2003

Before I came to live in Arica, Chile, spending a week in silence sounded ridiculous. I love constant motion; I enjoy bumping into people and I gather strength from personal interaction. The idea of voluntarily submerging myself into my thoughts for six days, allowing for a minimum of human contact, appeared to be a terrible one.
But after I completed a second retreat during Holy Week as a required component of my JVI placement, I have never been more comfortable alone. I firmly believe that silence gives someone exactly what he needs, and particularly during the retreat I gained two major guiding principles: acceptance and awareness.
Doubt and acceptancePerhaps the most significant challenge of voluntarily…

May 9th, 2003
War and the Homeless in Nashville

My Iraqi friend, Ali, says that before the first Gulf War, Iraq didn’t have any homeless people. The rich took care of the poor and the sick. It was a disgrace not to.[1]
I feel funny telling him about my work with Nashville’s homeless knowing that we have been bombing his homeland.
John is one of the many homeless Vietnam veterans that I see everyday. Last week he applied for disability for the third time as he was denied the first two. To justify his request, he asked me to help him type the horrifying experiences of his life as a 17-year old soldier in Vietnam. He still wakes up crying in the middle of the night. As I typed, I thought, “Saddam may be a maniac killer, but war is never just.”
War is a…

May 3rd, 2003
Sammy Sosa's Suspended and Back - Why Should We Care?

Sammy Sosa’s seven-game suspension for bat corking ended last week, amidst much snickering and two very respectable singles.
He refers to the incident in which his bat shattered, revealing a chunk of cheating squirreled into the base of his Louisville Slugger, as “the accident.” Oh. I wasn’t aware that the cork had burrowed its own way there.
More shattered than his bat that day, and nobody is talking about it much anymore. This is largely old news, having passed through nearly a month’s worth of twenty-four-hour news cycles.
An old story for a Cincinnati girl
It’s certainly old news to me: I’m from Cincinnati, home of Pete Rose, the team that lost to the 1919 Black…

May 3rd, 2003
Saved provides a smart critique of the evangelical teen subculture

I went to Saved , a new comedy about teenagers in a Christian high school expecting to get a few laughs at the expense of bible-based yokels. What I got instead was an entertaining, intelligent and surprisingly subtle teen comedy that pokes fun at the simplistic thinking and hypocrisy of white-suburban-conservative-evangelical culture.
Jena Malone plays Mary, a devout teen who accepted Jesus as her personal savior at the ripe old age of three. She attends the American Eagle Christian Academy a cliquish school where a towering billboard-esque icon of Jesus greets the students outside of the schoolhouse. Inside the classroom a picture of George W. Bush looms in the background while a buffoonish evangelical…

May 2nd, 2003
Christie Todd Whitman Finds Bush EPA No Place for Moderates

Wind Dummy?
The writing was on the wall for all environmentalists the day Secretary of State Colin Powell called EPA director Christine Todd Whitman President Bush’s “wind dummy .” The term refers to the military practice of tossing a dummy out of an airplane to test which way the wind is blowing over a landing zone.
Powell used the reference in a derogatory way to describe Whitman’s position navigating between environmentalists and conservatives in an administration clearly anti-environmentalist in deed.
Can it be any surprise that after 28 months Whitman has decided to call it quits?
A tale of two Bushes
It was early in Whitman’s tenure that her fate was sealed, and so was that…

May 2nd, 2003
Climbing Out of the Generation Gap

Nearly 14 of us descended on a swanky inn and spa a couple weekends ago for a healthy getaway for women. The participants were divided pretty evenly between twentysomethings and fiftysomethings, all strangers to one another. At first, the age difference was obvious through more than just the design of our clothing or the style of our hair.
“We’d have more in common with Martians.”…
This sentiment occurred to me during dinner on Friday night after we’d all settled in at the hotel. Two tables were set up adjacent to each other, and, in a seemingly natural flow of things, we sat in peer groups. At my table, we tiptoed around polite conversation. In the meantime, peals of uncontained laughter

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